


Terror

by Potato_Being



Series: Silence [3]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Conversations, Darkwater Crossing, no magic, the dragonborn is a creep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 20:06:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3181448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Potato_Being/pseuds/Potato_Being
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erandur is now travelling with the Dragonborn, and is slightly concerned for her sanity, and very disturbed by her methods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terror

This _thing_ must have come straight from Oblivion.

I watched the woman tear through Imperial, Stormcloak and Forsworn camps with the same level of apathy. Everyone in her way begged for mercy before her knifes slew them. I had to watch, and take the things she plucked from their bodies.

She was covered in blood again, slowly trying to start a fire.

“Just use some magic.” I told her. She looked up at me slowly, glaring. She shook her head stiffly, and went back to struggling with flint. I sighed, channeling a fireball into my hand, and throwing it at the wood she was striking.

I didn’t expect the reaction it gave. As soon as she saw the fire hit the wood, and the wood light up immediately, she lunged backwards, throwing her hands away from the flames. She looked up at me again, this time seething.

“Sorry?” I said hesitantly as she slowly stood. I began to stand as well, to either apologise again or to run away. Both of these options I was fairly sure would end poorly. I ended up with thickly gloved hands around my throat.

She was taller than me, and her face was twisted into a horrifying snarl. I could hear some sort of hissing, which I assumed to be her forming words. She leaned towards my ear.

 _“Never use magic outside of combat without warning me first.”_ Her teeth were showing, and I was sure she’d tear my ear off. I tried to swallow, but her hands were slowly tightening around my throat. I quickly nodded as best I could, and she released me.

I collapsed on the ground, gasping for air that would not stay in my lungs. Without meaning to I began shaking as she crossed back to her side of the fire. I slowly pushed myself into a sitting position, trying not to meet her gaze.

I hard no idea why I offered my services, as she obviously didn’t need any help in combat.

 

In the morning I woke to the smell of cooking meat. I looked up, and the woman was slowly prodding a stewpot. She didn’t acknowledge my presence, although she must have known I was awake.

For an hour we sat in silence, with her slowly cooking stew and my trying to not be strangled again.

She handed me a bowl, as if it were normal for two people to be making breakfast on the side of a mountain.

“Forgive me.” I finally said. She didn’t respond, which I expected. “I had no idea that my actions would… scare you so badly.” She looked up at me, and then back down at her own bowl of stew, which she began drinking. “Your face… your hands are in the same state, aren’t they?” She lowered her bowl, raising one eyebrow. “Please, if I’ve gone too far, I’m sorry. But, you are silent, and I can’t read body language, and—”

There was a hand on my mouth. I hadn’t seen her move, but she was drinking her stew again, and covering my mouth with her free hand. She looked bored. She set her bowl down, thought for a moment, and then pointed at the base of the mountain.

“What’s down there?” I asked, once she removed the hand. She looked at me without expression.

 

A bandit camp. That’s what was at the bottom of the mountain. She slowly drew her knives, and looked at me.

“Follow you. I get it.” I sighed. I had no desire to follow this woman into a camp that size. She simply crept forward, and then charged. I followed quickly, trying to avoid being stabbed, and dutifully use my magic to aid her. As she stepped towards a heavily-armoured man, she swung her daggers, knocking him to his knees and beheading him. I flinched as the head rolled towards me.

Without any acknowledgement of her execution of a bandit chief, she pushed open a door, stepping inside. Almost immediately she came back out, leading a small, dirty girl by the hand.

“I live in Darkwater Crossing, ma’am.” This woman just nodded, and began walking.

She listened. The girl talked the entire way, as I carried her on my back. It was slow, but the girl told us both about the mines, her friends, and how the woman wandered into the camp during a storm, left, and brought back one of their miners that had gone missing.

“Derkeethus talks about you a lot, ma’am. He says you’re a nightmare when you’re fighting. Don’t you ever talk?” She shook her head.

 

It was beginning to get light as we entered the camp. I set the girl down, and she ran towards the cluster of tents.

“Mama!” With a surprised shout, three bodies began standing up, and hugging the girl.

“I don’t know how you tracked her down, but we owe you so much. Thank you.” A Nord man told the woman, who simply nodded and turned to leave.

 

“Your plan was to find the girl, right?” She nodded. We were walking past the hot springs, several miles away from the mine. “All right then.” I said.

 _“Laria.”_ I looked up at the whisper. She was staring at me. _“My name.”_ I realised that I didn’t actually know her name up until that point.

“And you already know mine. Thank you, though.” She didn't respond, and kept walking.

 


End file.
